


Lost In Thoughts

by LightRunner4



Category: VIXX
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 18:48:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10882800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightRunner4/pseuds/LightRunner4
Summary: a short late night drabble about a late night situation.





	Lost In Thoughts

Hakyeon knocks softly. From inside the vocal practice room, no sound can be heard. It might seem weird that Wonshik would sit in there for hours thought not rapping at all. Hakyeon does not. Chances are high that Wonshik is writing again, or probably composing (since he writes his lyrics in bed lately, with one arm around a dozing Hakyeon and his feet tapping to a rhythm only he is able to hear).  
With a sigh and a quick glance at the clock on the wall, Hakyeon opens without waiting further for a reply. He would not have gotten one until the next morning, anyway. Wonshik is leaning over his laptop, back arched in a way that will have him wince in pain once he moves. The music from his headphone is distinct for once, instead of blasting like thunder, which makes the leader smile a bit. At last, Wonshik does listen to him.  
“Hyuk could learn a thing or two from that”, Hakyeon murmurs to himself while quietly closing the door behind him. He sneaks up to Wonshik, peeking over his shoulder.  
The laptop’s screen would not make less sense to Hakyeon if it showed complex math equations. There are about five hundred different buttons and layers and tools and graphs, some blinking aggressively. Hakyeon frowns, doubting that this program is something one should be working with at 2am. Afterwards, Wonshik is probably going to roll around all night again, murmuring something about ‘pitch’ and ‘more upbeat’, until Hakyeon kicks him because they both need sleep.  
He, being the responsible leader he is, tucks on Wonshik’s headphones to tell him that. The other jumps three inches, glaring at him for a split second before his tired eyes re-focus on the screen.  
“Do you realize that you have been in here for…five hours or something? I doubt you even ate”, Hakyeon scolds, crossing his arms to mark his point.  
The other just hums, moving the cursor over a few symbols and ticking some boxes before he puts his headphones back on to examine the change. He might assume that ignorance will make the leader go away, but Hakyeon is not in the mood to give up.  
“You know we have to be up in three hours, right? I came here to tell you that – else I would be peacefully asleep…in our bed…having some nice dream…” He tries in his best seductive tone (well, second best – best is for different occasions) and inches closer to Wonshik.  
The solemn reply is another distracted hum that can be translated into something like ‘The owner of this brain is currently out of reach. Please change the number and do not try to call again’.  
“Yah, Kim Wonshik!”  
This time, any reaction fails to materialize, and Hakyeon feels his eyebrow twitch.  
“And when you get home with me within the next five minutes, I’ll undress for you and suck you off. How does that sound?”  
Wonshik frowns – causing his leader to almost break out in a dance of joy – then scrolls down the menu. “Ah, there it is”, he mutters, voice raw from disuse. Hakyeon likes it when he sounds like this – usually. Right now, it is only a turn-on for his anger.  
“Kim Wonshik, I am counting down from ten now. If you are not off this crappy laptop by then, I shall make you cry for your mama. Do you get me?”  
He does not even waits for a reaction, just starts counting down. By five, he opens one eye to glance at an unmoving Wonshik. By one, he jumps off the chair, ready to find the next best thing that is heavily enough to create a headache when he slams it on the younger’s head – but he is alone.  
“What the-“ He looks around, gulping. The room is all dark. There is only the light from the laptop screen and Hakyeon’s own, rapidly fastening breathing. ‘Ghosts’, he thinks, walking backwards slowly. ‘Murderers. Killer dolls.’  
Suddenly, there is a stream of light from behind him. He turns, blinking slowly. Wonshik’s standing there, leaning against the doorframe as if he is the one waiting. He yawns. “You comin’?”  
Hakyeon raises a brow. The laptop behind him makes a sound, announcing it is shutting down now. “You come home with me? Really?”  
Wonshik looks at him as if he just asked if the light blue is his natural hair colour. “After what you promised? Of course.”  
Hakyeon gulps. “You heard me?!”  
“I was a bit…lost in thoughts. Not deaf. Plus, it was quite funny, you know – you struggling for my attention.” He smirks, and Hakyeon wishes he could be mad at this dongsaeng, this impossible boyfriend he got himself. Instead, he has to fight the smile creeping onto his own lips.  
“Asshole”, he mutters, not meaning it at all, and walks towards Wonshik who pulls him into a soft hug.  
“Glad you came to get me.” He leans back a little to have access to Hakyeon’s lips. They kiss for a while, and Hakyeon feels great tiredness washing over him. He has not slept at all until now, because the freaking bed is too empty without Wonshik and because he misses his snoring – not that he ever would admit to that out loud.  
Hakyeon sighs, thinking of his promise. He doubts his boyfriend will be happy with a blowjob if he falls asleep in the middle of it…  
“You know, we still have tomorrow.” Wonshik grins idly. “By the way, I am as tired as you are.”  
“Stop reading my mind.”  
“I am not. I just know you, I guess.”  
They share a long look, one of those they put cheesy music under in dramas. It says a lot, and so they spare the words while walking back from the studio to their dorm. Their fingers are linked, and their breaths mingle as they go up to the sky. And Hakyeon is a bit lost in thought now, too. Good thing he has Wonshik to hold him down on the ground.


End file.
